


Son, no-one will save you now

by SofteDisworl



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fix-It, M/M, Oneshot, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 01:04:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16713589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SofteDisworl/pseuds/SofteDisworl
Summary: Sometimes, on the meteor, your thoughts drifted off to what it’d be like if you ever saw Sollux in the dreambubbles, though it never ended up happening. You weren’t sure how exactly you’d react, the possibilities ranging from freezing up to straight out hugging him. As it turns out, you punch him.





	Son, no-one will save you now

**Author's Note:**

> Considering how canon let this relationship fade into the void, it was left for me to try and figure out it out for myself. This ‘ship likely really dates me, ye gods. The specific nature of the relationship here was meant to read as treading somewhere between romantic and platonic waters, but you can read it as either of them singularly.

     It takes you a minute with a blistering headache and your eyes closed to remember that you won. And here you are, lying in the big, shiny new world on your ass like a twitching character on gliding slate from one of Strider’s games. You stand up, finding yourself in a forest not unlike the ones that were near the edge of your hivestem. You never got to explore them much, as crabdad would bitch and moan whenever you got too far from his sight. It made sense, you were waiting to be killed by some high blood out there, but it would’ve been nice to be able see something other than the cramped confines of your personal hellhole. Regardless, there isn’t fucking time for you to sit and reminisce about Alternia when you’re on unknown territory and who knows what could want to kill you. The others may have gotten their sickeningly bright coloured pajamas from being staked on a slate of stone that the game dared to call a ‘cocoon’, but it never happened to you, so you’ve got one life to spare, as far as you know.

     You take out your sickle out and bring your guard up, edging around each tree to see if someone else is there. The action is routine to you, having figured that any day someone would realize what you are and then promptly gut you, not to mention that it was expected of any threshecutioner. Regardless, it’s certainly helpful now, and you’re nearly at the forest’s edge when you see a familiar red and blue glow ahead of you and hear pained thud. Your bloodpusher jumps a bit at that--not from fear, but hope, which is almost worse. You quickly reassure yourself that it’d be a fucking dumb call to get excited when SGRUB has certainly fucked you over many times before, and you’re not convinced that you’ve actually won yet. The light’s faded by now, and the only sound now is some strained hissing from behind a bush. So, you make your way over to the source of the noise, sickle in hand, and if there’s a rush to your stride, it’s only because potential threats should be taken out as soon as possible.

     When you were on the meteor, you sometimes thought about the other trolls you had lost. Some of them were fairly deserved--while you almost missed Eridan and Vriska, they’d been killed to keep everyone else alive. It was harder to deal with the deaths of those they killed; if SGRUB was good for anything, it was making a fucking disaster out of anything it could touch. Regardless, though, you met plenty of them in the dreambubbles. You remember seeing a Nepeta with a god tier version of yourself (wingless, because there’s no forgetting you’re an aberration), and she looked genuinely happy. You couldn’t consider Aradia lost, she was the only one that had found any serious semblance of happiness in your session, and you’re glad for it, if only because she finally found it from somewhere not ruined by your command.

     It was clear that Sollux had been happy, too. You didn’t dwell on it much, t was just like Aradia. He was gone, it was a good thing for him, and if you ever were irritated by something Strider did because it almost seemed a tad too familiar, it was nothing but him being his usual douchefuck self. Sometimes, though, you were an idiot and your thoughts drifted off to what it’d be like if you ever saw Sollux in the dreambubbles, though it never ended up happening. You weren’t sure how exactly you’d react, the possibilities ranging from freezing up to straight out hugging him. As it turns out, when you see the familiar cluster of bones wearing glasses, you punch him.

     Unsurprisingly, this ends up with you being lifted far into the air. Sollux looks at you, infuriated, before giving a short expression of surprise and regressing into annoyance.

     ‘What the hell, KK? Do you want to explain that move?’ He brings you back down to the ground, though he still keeps his hand at the ready. Aside from the return of his psionics, he’s speaking with the familiar lisp you remember from the occasional Trollian audio chats you had that tended to turn into pissing matches. And for some reason, you want to keep up the idiot train, so what you do next is burst into tears.

     ‘God fucking damn it, you shitlicker, I didn’t know if you made it through--you seemed perfectly fine having just fucked off far into the dreambubbles like it was nothing after bleeding out just to blast our meteor into motion--’

     ‘Sorry,’ is all he replies, and that almost makes it worse.

     It seems like you’re just going to continue with this, so you just let it come out, your nails digging into your skin from all the frustration. ‘I saw you die two times, and I was so fucking worried each time that you were gone. You left like it was perfectly-fucking-fine. I was left at the whims of a thousand assholes in the dreambubbles, and I never saw you. God, this game was so stupid, no shit you just gave up, but that didn’t stop it from hurting so damn much.’

     He doesn’t say much, for what feels like the longest time where you’re just making a show of yourself. You’re about to snap, _got your entertainment yet?_ when he finally speaks.

     ‘I was too worried that you’d flip out on me for leaving if I searched for you in the dreambubbles. I figured it was what I deserved, anyways,’ he laughs hoarsely at that, before continuing. ‘It really was such horseshit, and I partially made it. Guess that makes it kind of my fault.’

     ‘No, it fucking doesn’t. The game sucks across all grounds, even throughout all the fucking universes it makes.’

     You’ve pretty much stopped crying, and calmed down, but you’re not quite satisfied yet. You step forward and hug Sollux hard, lifting him up as far as you can (fairly high--he hasn’t stopped being a skinny shitlord, and you spent hours preparing for the final battle.

     ‘ _Fuck_ , KK--your stupid nubby horn is digging into my throat!’

     ‘Shut up, this is happening.’

     Stupid nubby horns or no, it’s not long before you lower him and he’s reciprocating. Of course, he breaks it off eventually, muttering something about being a fragile nerd, or something, before asking, ‘So, we’ve really won?’

     ‘That was the fucking plan that landed us here, yes. But I’ve still get the stupid instinct that SGRUB might just be fucking us over again, and you’re a projection from the depths of its ass. It would explain why you’ve somehow managed to avoid being an asshole.’

    ‘Ehehehe, fuck you too, KK. You just like to pretend that because you can’t understand how cultured I am; it’s beyond your comprehension.’

     ‘Anyway, get your bony ass over here so we can search for the others. There’s a particular insufferable prick I think you’d want to meet.’

**Author's Note:**

>  _So what will you do when they call your name_  
>  _and you’re not ready to go?_  
>  _Everyone will stare at you and tell you what you know_  
>  _That you’re in too deep and you can’t quite keep_  
>  _your secrets, one and all ___  
>  _We might just make it after all, on our own ___  
>  _We might just make it after all_  
>  -Streetlight Manifesto, ‘ _One Foot On The Gas, One Foot In The Grave_ ’


End file.
